About a week had passed since Tsumugi-chan started attending high school. Those seven days felt both long and short—a truly strange stretch of time.
If I happened to see her face in the morning after waking up, she would sigh. Even if I spoke to her, our conversations were brief. Like the alarm on a clock, each day followed nearly the same timing and flow. It was orderly, yet only my emotions felt worn down.
I had hoped that maybe something would change once high school began. I was starting to realize that expectation had been a bit naive.
And so, on this holiday morning, as I was brewing coffee in the kitchen, I heard the sound of her bedroom door being roughly opened. Followed by familiar footsteps.
“Haa…”
As soon as Tsumugi-chan entered the living room and saw my face, she let out an openly disgusted breath. Without even a greeting, she didn’t so much as glance my way afterward. Even so, I took a small breath and spoke in as natural a voice as I could.
“Good morning, Tsumugi-chan.”
“……”
Silence was the only reply. I wanted to say I was used to it but this wasn’t the kind of thing you could ever get used to. I pretended not to feel the tight, painful squeeze deep in my chest, simply pushing it down.
Until recently, on mornings when she slept in, I would call out from outside her door, “Time to get up, maybe?” But apparently, she disliked that too, so she started waking up on her own before I could go wake her.
If you asked whether that was progress, it wasn’t at all. But it wasn’t as if we were completely avoiding each other, either. It felt like she was running away from me, yet not quite able to escape the distance between us and in that, I found a tiny sliver of hope.
I know it sounds foolish. But I wanted to believe it was better than nothing.
Yet that hope fluttered and wavered like thin paper every time I remembered those words she had spat out before.
“—I’ll make you see hell someday.”
When I heard that, a freezing cold enveloped my back. Tsumugi-chan had sounded completely serious. It wasn’t just anger or sadness, something simpler than that but a deeper, sunken emotion lay within those words.
The blade of her words precisely pierced the weak spots in my heart. “Murderer,” “hypocrite”… I should have been used to being called those things by now, yet they still reached deep inside me.
Even so, I had to endure it. Because my personal hell would be if my connection with Shiori were completely severed. As long as Tsumugi-chan stayed by my side, even while hating me, I could still feel Shiori’s breath there.
—I still hadn’t fully accepted Shiori’s death.
That fact slowly tightened around my chest, and self-loathing surfaced.
While saying I wanted to protect Tsumugi-chan, wasn’t there a part of me seeking Shiori in her instead? Such thoughts suddenly crossed my mind.
Just then, the sound of a chair being pushed back drew my gaze. Tsumugi-chan had finished her breakfast. As usual, she cleared her plate and returned to her room.
I wondered if we’d see each other next around noon… but a few minutes later, she returned to the living room holding several printed sheets.
Had she forgotten something? Or was there something she hadn’t finished saying? Both hope and anxiety brushed through my chest at once.
Tsumugi-chan walked wordlessly to the table and placed the papers in front of me. Only the dry rustle of paper softly echoed.
“……Please.”
“Ah, yeah…”
With that, she turned on her heel and headed back toward her room. After the sound of the door closing, I finally looked down at the papers left on the table.
What was written there—
“……Ah, right. Come to think of it, it’s that time of year, isn’t it?”
A notice about an overnight training camp to help new students bond. It seemed to start next week.
Just reading the words, nostalgic memories floated softly up from deep in my chest. Because back when Shiori and I were first-years in high school, there had been a similar camp.
Back then, room assignments were by student number, so Shiori and I were placed in separate rooms. The moment I found out, I put on a calm face. But truthfully, I felt somewhat unsettled.
Later, during group work after dinner, I was chatting and laughing with other girls when Shiori got sulky afterward. I was happy to learn I wasn’t the only one who had felt lonely.
“Seeing Akane getting along with girls other than me… hurts more than I thought.”
“The only one I like is you, Shiori. Relax, okay? Let’s go on a date when we get back? Hm?”
When I said that and hugged her, Shiori gave a small laugh and calmed down.
But in the end, that night, Shiori swapped with the girl in my room, and we secretly kissed under the futon, careful not to be noticed by everyone else. We stifled our laughter, holding our breath to stay quiet.
The warmth of her body and the feel of her fingertips from that time still remain. …I still haven’t forgotten.
“Those were the days… Shiori.”
The murmured words were swallowed by the living room air.
If I closed my eyes, Shiori from back then was right there. Smiling, sometimes sulking a little, calling my name. But when I opened them—no one was there.
Before loneliness could settle in my chest, I picked up the papers and reread the contents.
“I wonder if Tsumugi-chan will be okay…”
Had she made any friends? Was she alone at school, carrying her emotional wounds?
I hoped the overnight camp would bring her even a little healing. Even if she still hated me, I couldn’t help but wish for that much.
Flipping through the pages, I reached the section listing necessary items for the camp.
“‘Please’… I guess she wants to go shopping for them, maybe?”
The thought made a faint warmth bloom deep in my chest. It wasn’t that she was relying on me. Maybe she just handed them over out of necessity, mechanically. But it wasn’t complete rejection, either.
To be saved by something so small—I must still be weak.
“Maybe we can go out together this afternoon…”
Somewhere like a shopping mall, where we could get everything in one trip, would probably be best.
Letting out a soft sigh, I began arranging the shopping plans in my head. So that Tsumugi-chan’s mood wouldn’t sour even a little. So, I wouldn’t say anything unnecessary and hurt her.
Thinking that way—once again carefully gauging the distance between us—I allowed myself a small, wry smile.